


Rebranding

by RobberBaroness



Series: Quickie Crossovers [13]
Category: Saints Row, The Warriors (1979)
Genre: Ficlet, Gen, you can't show up to a big gang truce without the right outfit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-04
Updated: 2018-04-04
Packaged: 2019-04-18 06:25:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14207079
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RobberBaroness/pseuds/RobberBaroness
Summary: "What do you mean another gang is wearing purple?"





	Rebranding

“What the fuck do you mean another gang is wearing purple?”

“Yeah, they’re called the Boppers. Like, purple dance clothes or shit like that.”

The Boss threw her bottle across the room in a magnificent arc at the injustice of it all. Johnny Gat threw his as well in a move of solidarity.

“We ain’t just gonna let them take purple!” he said. “And no fucking way are walking into Cyrus’ big meeting with the same outfit as another gang. We’re talking self-respect here.”

“Now,” Pierce offered, “let’s wait just one moment. If you’re willing to hear me out, are we really married to purple? I mean, yeah, the Boppers got to go for this shit, but for right now there’s a truce, and I’m thinking maybe this is a good opportunity for rebranding. What says ‘saints’ to you? Halos? Wings? We could get those at a costume store easy, wouldn’t even need to steal them.”

“Did you see some of the other guys?” Shaundi asked. “Baseball uniforms and full face paint. We shoulda done that.”

They all nodded. They should have, indisputably.

“Okay,” said the Boss, “let’s think about what we have that can compete on that level. What exactly are we rebranding to? The Riffs have their martial arts shtick, the Warriors have that Greek-Roman-Native-whatever thing going on, the Baseball Furies picked the best gimmick with no question. So who are we? What defines us? What do we have that they don’t?”

“We’re gender-egalitarian,” suggested Shaundi.

“Hey, that’s a good point! Not everybody does that. It’s gonna be a major sausage festival at Cyrus’ place tonight, no questions. What else do we have?”

“The craziest Boss in town,” Johnny said with pride.

“Now that I take some objection to” she responded. “Am I, by certain dictionary definitions, mentally ill? Possibly. Am I tough but fair? Generally. Am I ruthless? When necessary. Am I sadistic? Occasionally. Do I injure civilians? No more than my competitors. Have I ever put us into clearly avoidable danger? Depending on your definition of avoidable. Have I ever done so for no reason? Depending on your definition of reason. You wanna go join the Rogues and see what stupid-crazy looks like, the door’s that way.”

There wasn’t much arguing with that.

“But look, this isn’t about me, it’s about us! It’s about the Saints! What are our values? What, at the end of the day, do we truly stand for?”

The silence following that question was almost depressing.

“You guys are the worst sometimes. Pierce, let’s get those wings going, and they better have rhinestones. We're the Saints, and if we stand for anything it's being the gaudiest motherfuckers on the block.”

**Author's Note:**

> Is this an alternate universe? Is it post-fourth-game time travel? Who knows!


End file.
